ORIGINAL AND SELECTED Songs, Printed for the Use of the 13th ANNUAL REUNION OF THE Society of the Army of the Potomac, DETROIT, JUNE 14-15, 1882. SONG OF THE LEGION. Composed for the New York Commandery, MILITARY ORDER, LOYAL LEGION, United States. BY GENERAL JAMES McQUADE. ______________ AIR—“ Lauriger Horatius.” (Key of G.) BRAVE companions, tried and true, Noble Loyal Legion, Veterans who wore the blue, Noble Loyal Legion; Men who drew the nation's sword, Savedthe flag from being lowered, Rally round this jovial board. Noble Loyal Legion Quick their country's call to heed, Noble Loyal Legion, Faithful in the hour of need. Noble Loyal Legion, Glorious deeds of patriot band, Fighting for fair Freedom's land, Bright on history's page shall stand, Noble Loyal Legion. Laureled banners on the wall. Noble Loyal Legion, Tender memories recall, Noble Loyal Legion. Joys with sadness intertwine, Hearts through humid eyes outshine, Tears perfume the merry wine, Noble Loyal Legion. Year by year the ranks get thin, Noble Loyal Legion, Few recruits are taken in, Noble Loyal Legion. There's no place for traitor knave, Sordid churl or dastard slave— Vainly such admission crave, Noble Loyal Legion. By courtesy of' the New York Commandery, Gen. C. A. Carleton, Recorder. While of this heroic host, Noble Loyal Legion, One is left to drink a toast, Noble Loyal Legion, He'll remember days of yore, Loved companions gone before, Mustered on the shining shore, Noble Loyal Legion. Fill your goblets to the brim, Noble Loyal Legion, Join in the Commandery hymn, Noble Loyal Legion; May the last Companion here When he sees grim death draw near, Meet him with bold Legion cheer. Noble Loyal Legion. _______ WE'LL NEVER GET DRUNK ANY MORE. (Key of G.) O SHERIDAN'S bummers they went to the cupboard To forage for ham and pone, But Sherman 's rag-muffins had been there before 'em, So Sheridan's bummers got none. Chorus. Hey diddle diddle, the cat and the fiddle, The cow jumped over the moon, The little dog laughed to see such sport, And the dish ran away with the spoon, spoon, spoon, And the dish ran away with the — Oh no! we'll never get drunk any more (three times) Never get drunk. never get drunk, Never get drunk any more. There's cider and porter and brandy and water, And beer and ale sangaree, But for steady libations, the king of all rations— Is whiskey and water for me. — Chorus. O bolder and bolder grows the heart of a soldier Who lives on Congressional “tea,” His heart is a stranger to hardship and danger, And devil a farthing cares he.—Chorus. With his girl in his locket, not a “red” in his pocket, The sailor is careless and free, While he sails the world over he revels in clover If he has his Congressional " tea.''—Chorus. H. C. KING. ______ TENTING ON THE OLD CAMP-GROUND. (Key of A.) WE'RE tenting to-night on the old camp-ground, Many of our best are dead; Three years have passed in a wearying round Since the last good-bye was said. Chorus. Many are the hearts that are weary to-night, wishing that the war would cease, Many are the hearts, now fighting for the right, That hope for the dawn of peace. Tenting to-night, tenting to-night, Tenting on the old camp-ground. We've been tenting to-night on the old camp- ground, Thinking of the days gone by, Of the brave ones dead and their dear ones crowned With a grief that will not die.— Chorus. We are tired of war on the old camp-ground, Weary of the ways that kill, Of the fatal shot and the cruel wound— The pickets are firing still ! –Chorus. We've been fighting to-day on the old camp-ground. Many will fight no more— For the dead and dying on the old camp-ground The war at last is o'er. Chorus. Many are the hearts that are weary to-night, Wishing that the war would cease, Many are the hearts now looking for the light, To see the dawn of peace. Dying to-night, dying to-night, Dying on the old camp ground. Revised by M. T. McMAHON. _______ MARY HAD A LITTLE LAMB. AIR—“Rally Round the Flag.” MARY had a little lamb, 'Twas always on the go. Chorus—Shouting the battle cry of freedom; So she staked it on the grassy slope Along the Shenando'. Chorus—Shouting the battle cry of freedom. Full Chorus. Hurrah for Mary, hurrah for the lamb, Hurrah for the sojers who didn't care a (ahem!) For we'll rally round the flag, boys, we'll rally once again, Shouting the battle cry of freedom. And frequently she turned it loose, Upon the bank to play.—Chorus. The sojers eyed it from the shore. In a kleptomaniac way.—Chorus. Full Chorus. “What makes the men love mutton so?" The Colonel he did cry.—Chorus. “'Cause mutton makes the whiskers grow," The sojers did reply.—Chorus. Full Chorus. It swam across the Shenando'; Our pickets saw it too;—Chorus. And speedily it simmered down. Into a mutton stew.—Chorus. Full Chorus. And Mary never more did see Her darling little lamb,—Chorus. For the boys in blue they "chawed " it up, And didn't care a—. —Chorus. Full Chorus. H. C. KING. _______ THE LOYAL LEGIONIER. [COMIC SONG.] AIR—“Son of a Gambolier.” Ho! Soldiers, sailors, and marines, I sing a jolly blade, Who nobly fit into the war and never was dismayed, Who never was dismayed, brave boys, nor walked off on his ear, A gallant Union saver was, the Loyal Legionier. Chorus—The loyal—loyal—loyal—loyal—Loyal Legionier, The loyal—loyal—loyal—loyal—Loyal Legionier, He takes a drink—when he is asked— Of whisky, wine, or beer, A gay and festive "sojer " is the Loyal Legionier. When this cruel war was over he laid down his canteen, And soon upon Fifth Avenue was daily to be seen, Arrayed in Devlin's stunning suits, he gaily did appear, And " mashed" the girls both left and right, this Loyal Legionier.—Chorus. He drives a dog-cart in the Park, he borrows from a friend— Though always on the borrow, he nothing has to lend— And when the ladies see him pass, they cry out, What a dear ! Quite fond of admiration is, the Loyal Legionier.— Chorus. He is deep in Fred De Bary's books, and Park & Tilford's too; He eats soft clams at Parker's ranche, at Dorlon's takes a stew; His checks are in the Gilsey till, his note are far and near; He pays like Ancient Pistol, does the Loyal Legion- ier.—Chorus. So piously he goes to church, and always enters late— He slides in after the Deacon has passed around the plate; A pilgrim at the Brunswick shrine, he seeks the café rear. To ''find a man" to worship with the Loyal Legio- nier –Chorus. Republican of Stalwart type, yet stanch Half- Breed likewise; He stands up for old Tammany, with Irving Hall he Lies; The County Democratic bark he stoutly aids to steer— No hide-bound partisan is he, the Loyal Legionier.— Chorus His corns are cut by Madame Pray, his fingers mani- cured, His cheeks berouged are every day—thus is a blush secured; His teeth are false, his moustache dyed, he squints with cunning leer— His wig is jute, his scarf-pin “snide," this Loyal Legionier.—Chorus. He takes a flyer in the street, and when he wins he pays. If he happens to be short, he'll "settle one of these days.” Should brokers for more margin call, he scorns the cry to hear. He's one of the boys who fears no noise, this Loyal Legionier.—Chorus. At length, when all his cash is gone, and credit near run out, He joins the Prohibitionists, to rant and tear and shout; He sings with Sankey, and with Moody reads his title clear, To Murphyize and sell wind pies, this Loyal Legionier. —Chorus. When all his plants have run to seed, and cheek is found no go. He seeks a situation with great Barnum's moral show; Or deep in Colorado's mines he ends his bright career, Then all at last with him is ore, the Loyal Legionier. —Chorus. JAMES McQUADE, JR. ______ COMPANIONS, FILL A FLOWING BOWL. AIR—“Come, Landlord, Fill Your Flowing Bowl." COMPANIONS, fill a flowing bowl Until it doth run over, Companions, fill a flowing bowl Until it doth run over ! For to-night we'll merry be, For to-night we'll merry be. For to-night we'll merry, merry be, And to-morrow we'll get sober. We drink the Union of the States; Oh, may it ne'er dissever ! We drink the Union of the States; Oh, may it ne'er dissever ! Drink it with hip, hip, hurrah ! Drink it with hip, hip, hurrah! Drink it with hip, hip, hurrah ! The Union firm forever. We drink to all, who, sword in hand, Maintained the nation's glory, We drink to all, who, sword in hand, Maintained the nation's glory, For all time their great renown, For all time their great renown, For all time their great renown, Will live in song and story. We drink to our fair ladies' eyes Which beam with glances tender, We drink to our fair ladies' eyes Which beam with glances tender, In the cup we prison them, In the cup we prison them, In the cup we prison them, Then captive ourselves render. We drink the memory of brave souls Who've left the ranks before us, We drink the memory of brave souls Who've left the ranks before us, Answering to our hearts' roll-call, Answering to our hearts' roll-call, Answering to our hearts' roll-call, Their spirits hover o'er us. JAMES MCQUADE. GLORY HALLELUJAH ! [Key of C.] JOHN BROWN'S body lies a-mould'ring in the grave, John Brown's hotly lies a-mould'ring in the grave, John Brown's body lies a-mould'ring in the grave, His soul is marching on! Chorus. Glory ! Glory Hallelujah ! Glory ! Glory Hallelujah ! Glory ! Glory Hallelujah ! His soul is marching on. He's gone to be a soldier in the army of the Lord ! He's gone to be a soldier in the army of the Lord ! He's gone to be a soldier in the army of the Lord ! His soul is marching on !—Chorus. John Brown's knapsack is strapped upon his back. His soul is marching on.—Chorus. His pet lambs will meet him on the way, And they'll go marching on.—Chorus. They'll hang Jeff Davis on a sour apple tree, As they go marching on.—Chorus. Now for the Union let 's give three rousing cheers, As we go marching on. Hip, hip, hip, hip, Hurrah ! ______ MARCHING THROUGH GEORGIA. [Key of A.] BRING the good old bugle, boys ! we'll sing another song— Sing it with a spirit that will start the world along— Sing it as we used to sing it fifty thousand strong. While we were marching through Georgia. Chorus. " Hurrah ! Hurrah ! we ring the jubilee ! Hurrah ! Hurrah ! the flag that makes you free !” So we sang the chorus from Atlanta to the sea, While we were marching through Georgia. How the darkies shouted when they heard the joy- ful sound ! How the turkeys gobbled which our commissary found ! How the sweet potatoes even started from the ground, While we were marching through Georgia.— Chorus. Yes, and there were Union men who wept with joy- ful tears, When they saw the honor'd flag they had not seen for years ; Hardly could they be restrained from breaking forth in cheers, While we were marching through Georgia.— Chorus. “Sherman's dashing Yankee boys will never reach the coast ! " So the saucy rebels said—and 'twas a handsome boast, Had they not forgot, alas ! to reckon on a host, While we were marching through Georgia.— Chorus. So we made a thoroughfare for Freedom and her train, Sixty miles in latitude—three hundred to the main ; Treason fled before us, for resistance was in vain, While we were marching through Georgia.— Chorus